


Kisses on Rails and Puppy Dog Tails

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, dog!Sam, human!Cas, human!Gabe, human!Ruby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:44:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who would have thought that a dog being bad would bring everything together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> A Sweet 16 gift for my wonderful friend, Daria. We've known each other since second(?) grade, but I wish I knew her longer. She's super sweet and absolutely adorable amazingly awesome and the best friend anyone could ever ask for. Happy birthday, dollface. Love ya! <3

Castiel sat on the park bench, listening as the steady babble of human chatter mixed in with the gentle rustling of leaves being blown about in the wind. The mid-morning sun shone down warmly, and the crisp, cool air held that distinct scent that could only be described as _autumn._ Breathing deeply, Castiel let himself be filled with the serenity of the scene. That is, however, until Gabriel snuck up behind him.

“Hey, little brother!” he called loudly, golden eyes shining wildly as Castiel jumped at the unexpected interruption.

Turning to glare at Gabe over his shoulder, Castiel's intense blue eyes quickly scanned the surrounding stretch of land, a small frown tugging at the corner of his lips when he did not find who he was looking for. Gabriel appeared not to have noticed, walking around the bench and plopping down next to Cas, pulling a lollipop out of his jacket pocket and tearing away the plastic before sucking the brightly colored mass of sugar into his mouth.

“Is there a reason you are here?” Castiel asked, slightly annoyed. Today was the day, he had promised himself; the day he was finally going to talk to _him._ But, of course, Gabriel just had to show up and ruin his plans. There was no way he was going to talk to _him_ with Gabriel near-by.

“Not really,” Gabe said, slouching back on the bench and pulling up his foot to rest on his opposite knee. “Why? Do I need one?”

Castiel chose to remain quiet, letting the question go.

“What about you?” Gabe pushed. “Any reason _you're_ here?”

Again, he remained silent.

Gabriel tilted his head to the side as he regarded his brother. He seemed to be working hard to keep his face free of any emotion and was continuously rubbing his palms on the black fabric of his pants, just above his knees. He looked nervous, Gabe thought, and he soon found himself wondering why. Every few seconds, Castiel's eyes would dart around the park, as if searching for something, but never looking as though he had found it.

When Cas' eyes wandered for the umpteenth time, Gabriel broke the silence that had settled over them. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?” Castiel asked for clarification almost defensively, as though he had been doing nothing out of the ordinary.

“Looking around,” Gabe said, vaguely gesturing at his brother's eyes. “It's almost like you're looking for something,” he continued, taking his foot off of his knee and leaning in closer before adding, “Or some _one_ ,” with a taunting smirk.

Castiel blinked and fidgeted at his brother's sudden proximity, some of his restlessness slipping onto his face as he realized he had been caught. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he lied, looking anywhere but Gabe's eyes.

Gabriel threw his head back, radiant smile erupting on his face. “Ha! I knew it!”he exclaimed triumphantly, obviously accepting Castiel's denial as confirmation. “So, who is he? Have you talked to him yet?”

“Gabriel, I told you, I don't know what you're talking about,” he lied again.

“Oh come on, Cas. It's obvious tha-”

He cut himself off in surprise when, seemingly out of nowhere, a large, chestnut brown dog came bounding across the park, an old and abused tennis ball held firmly in its mouth. Its warm, hazel eyes shone with excitement and its tail whipped back and forth as it jumped about in front of the bench, giving a few playful nudges to the bench's occupants.

“SAM!” a loud voice bellowed, causing the dog's head to pivot towards the direction the voice came from, wagging tail picking up speed. Castiel turned to look as well and felt his breath hitch when he laid eyes on the rapidly approaching figure; it was _him_.

He jogged over to them, the tips of his short, ash blond hair trembling in the breeze. The large leather jacket he usually wore was now tucked under one arm, showing off the unbuttoned plaid shirt he wore over a plain gray tee, rolled up at the sleeves to showcase perfectly tanned arms. “Sorry about him,” he said, slightly out of breath after presumably having had to chase his dog across the park. He draped an arm over its side, pulling it away from the strangers on the bench and closer to him while patting it affectionately.

It was a few moments before Castiel realized that he was staring. “It's fine,” he said absently, but couldn't quite manage to pull his eyes away.

The man cocked his head at him, noticing that the response seemed a little unfocused, but gave him a charming smile none the less, stunning green eyes sparkling brilliantly. Cas' heart started pounding wildly, so loud he though for sure that the man in front of him would notice. He didn't seem to, however, bending over to snatch the tennis ball from his dog's mouth.

“Come on, Sammy,” he said, straightening up. “Let's go for a run!” He gave one last smile and a friendly nod to both Cas and Gabe before taking off again, the dog right at his heels.

Cas was staring after his retreating figure, thoughts of how great his ass looked in those jeans drifting across his mind, when Gabriel spoke up, eyes darting back and forth between the stranger and his brother, mischievous grin in place. “It's totally him, isn't it?”

Castiel's eyes snapped back to his brother, knowing what was coming and not wanting to hear it. “Gabriel,” he warned, but it held no effect.

“He's pretty cute; I can see why you like him. And his dog isn't that bad, either. The three of you could probably make a cute, little family.”

“Gabriel,” Cas repeated firmly, but his brother rambled on.

“So, do you know his name? Or was that the first time he's even talked to you? I must say, not a very memorable first impression. You've gotta be bolder, little bro! You're never gonna get in his pants if you don-”

“Gabriel!” This time, Cas managed to make Gabe at least pause, holding up his hands in defense.

“Chill, Cas,” he said. “I'm just trying to help.”

“Unbelievable,” Castiel muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet and set off for the park exit. “Give me a call when you finally grow a pair and talk to him,” Gabriel shouted after him. “We can set up a double date!” Cas just shook his head to himself and kept walking.

A puff of wind blew through the park, catching Castiel's trench coat and sending it billowing out majestically behind him as he walked. He could hear children laughing all around him, and snippets of random adults' conversations, but wasn't paying any them any mind. It wasn't until he heard a familiar voice shout “Damn it, Sam, not again!” seconds before being knocked over by an equally familiar dog that Cas thought he should have been paying more attention.

“Hey, sorry about that. He doesn't usually run off like that,” the man said, crouching down and helping Castiel back to his feet. The dog was hovering at the man's side, tail still wagging.

“Do not worry about it. It is nothing.”

Once Cas was back on his feet, the man got a good look at his face, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “You're the guy from the bench, right?”

Castiel nodded and smiled back. It hadn't even been ten minutes and the dog had found him again.

“Well, then I guess I should be saying 'sorry, again,'” the man quipped, pulling a makeshift leash out of his pocket and attaching it to his dog's collar. Even as he did so, the dog was worming his way closer and closer to Castiel, ending up close enough to stick out his tongue and lick his hand in a friendly fashion. The man chuckled at this and said, “Looks like he likes you.”

Tentatively, Cas reached out and stroked the dog's head, its fur soft and smooth under his fingertips. “Sam, you said his name was?” The man nodded. “What type of dog is he?” Cas wasn't very familiar with dog breeds, but thought that it would be considered polite to show an interest.

“Irish Setter,” the man answered. “Three years old.”

“He's beautiful,” Cas complimented, and the man's entire being swelled with pride.

“Thanks, you're not too bad yourself.” A cheeky smile lit up his face, and Cas found himself trying his hardest not to blush. “I'm Dean, by the way,” the man introduced himself, extending a hand for Cas to shake.

“Castiel,” he said in return, gripping Dean's warm, calloused hand in his own.

“Odd name,” he remarked, to which Cas just shrugged. He was used to hearing similar reactions and could fully admit that his name wasn't in the least bit common. That didn't mean, however, that he didn't like it. “My parents were very religious,” he explained, and Dean nodded knowingly.

“I totally understand,” he said, gripping the leash tighter when Sam gave it an impatient tug. “You should have seen the way my dad was with the supernatural.” He didn't elaborate, and the look on his face told Cas that it would be better not to ask.

Sam gave another sharp tug on the leash and whined a bit, causing Dean to laugh, reaching down to fondle Sam's ear. “Okay, okay,” he conceded, “we'll get walking.” He turned back to Castiel with yet another charming smile. “Care to join us?”

Castiel returned it with a brilliant smile of his own. “It would be my pleasure.”


	2. Two

When Dean left the park later that afternoon, he not only had Cas' number, but a date lined up for the following evening. Sam trotted happily next to Dean as they made their way back to the Impala, leash still attached to his collar just in case he tried to make a run for it again. For now, though, he seemed to be content with where they were going.

Dean had parked just up the street from the park entrance, and the second they hit the sidewalk, a swarm of children just being released form the local Sunday school encircled them. The parents were quick to spot their kid and swoop them up into their car, but not before they caught sight of Sam. The older kids appeared not to care, but many of the younger ones began shrieking excitedly. “Puppy! Puppy!”

Dean tried his best to be patient as kid after kid stuck their tiny hands all over Sam, but it was tough; he wasn't all that fond of letting strangers near his dog. As much as he wanted to just keep walking, he didn't want to send all of the kids to tears, which would not only give him a headache, but would also force him to have to listen to angry parents yelling at him. Instead, he forced his friendliest smile onto his face and hoped that the kids would loose interest quickly.

“Dean!” a voice called. Kevin Tran, the Sunday school teacher, had spotted his friend while he was keeping an eye on his class, making sure they all got picked up safely.

Dean returned his greeting with, “Hey, Kevin,” as another young kid toddled up to Sam. He tried to keep his displeasure off of his face as the kid stuck out a pudgy hand to run along the dog's silky, brown fur.

“Jess,” Kevin reprimanded softly, “did you ask Mr. Winchester if you could pet his dog?”

Jess paused, taking a moment to contemplate what was being asked of her. She then put on her most innocent eyes, looking up at Dean and saying, “May I please pet your dog, Mr. Winchester?”

Inside his head, Dean sighed in defeat. Looking back down at Jess, he said, “Of course you can.” Sam's tail was soon thumping quickly against his leg.

“Were you just coming back from a walk?” Kevin asked, to which Dean nodded. “What's with the leash?” It was a well known fact that Dean rarely used a leash on Sam; the dog was too fond of his owner to wander off.

Dean chuckled a bit before explaining. “He was jumping all over a guy at the park,” he said, realizing that he should probably thank him for that. After all, he would never have talked to Cas if Sam had left him alone.

“Seriously?” Kevin asked in disbelief. Sam was usually so well behaved.

Dean nodded again, pleased to see Jess' mother come over to take her home. She had been one of the last kids there, so there weren't going to be any other strangers coming over to them.

“What, did he have raw steak in his pockets?”

Dean laughed at that, shaking his head. “I dunno, but Sam was all over him.” The dog in question had calmed down by now and was looking around sadly, trying to figure out where his source of petting had gone.

Kevin hummed thoughtfully, reaching down and scratching Sam behind his ear. Looking back up at Dean, he asked, “Your shop isn't open on Sunday, is it?”

Dean shook his head. He was a mechanic in a family run shop and his father always insisted that the shop be closed on Sunday. “I can take a look at it tomorrow,” Dean offered, figuring that Kevin's car had been giving him some trouble. His date wasn't until the evening, leaving him plenty of time to work on his friend's car in the afternoon. 

Kevin shot Dean a grateful smile. “Thanks,” he said. “I'll bring it by in the morning.”

Dean nodded before exchanging goodbyes and leading Sam back to the Impala. The dog leapt into the passenger's seat while Dean got behind the wheel, making sure that the windows were rolled down so Sam could stick his head out as they drove.

They were in the car for only about ten minutes before pulling up to a secluded cottage, tucked well away from the rest of the town. The long, winding, dirt driveway lead them further and further back into the forest before the house even came into view. Dean parked the Impala just shy of where the driveway narrowed down into a walkway, leaving the door open long enough for Sam to dart out after him. The dog's tail wagged happily in the crisp air as a few brightly colored leaved drifted down around them. 

Dean started walking up the path that lead to the door, waiting until they were inside to take off Sam's leash. A quick glance told him that the salt lines that had been drilled into him from his childhood that he should lay remained undisturbed. Good.

Wandering into the small kitchen, Dean grabbed a beer from the fridge before raiding the cabinets for something to eat. Sam followed, making a beeline for his food bowl and digging in. Dean cracked a small smile at his dog's antics, pulling out a bag of chips and heading into the den to collapse onto the couch. Even though it was barely past one in the afternoon, now that he was lying down, he felt inexplicably tired. His was soon nodding off, the quiet rustle of leaves in the wind lulling into a light sleep.


	3. Three

The next day was fairly normal; Dean was in the shop by 8 a.m. and out by 5. True to his word, Kevin brought his car by for Dean to take a look at. It was a simple fix, but although Dean would never admit it, it took twice as long as it normally would. He kept getting distracted, thoughts of Castiel filling his mind instead of thoughts that might actually be useful in the shop. Thankfully, none of the other mechanics noticed, although Adam did give him a strange look when he found him staring into space in the break room.

Dean was out the door the moment the clock hit five. He was picking Cas up at six and wanted plenty of time to get ready. As per usual, Sam was ecstatic when his owner got home, happily trailing after him as he made his way to his room and jumping up onto the bed as Dean pulled a change of clothes out of the closet. He flopped onto his back, entirely uninterested as Dean rummaged through draws in both his bedroom and in the bathroom. It wasn't until Dean came back into the room, asking “What d'ya think, Sammy? Do I look good?” that his ears perked up, tail whipping back and forth over the bedspread. 

Dean chuckled. “I guess I'll take that as a yes,” he said, ruffling the fur on the top of Sam's head. A quick glance at the clock on his nightstand told him he had twenty minutes before he should leave to pick up Cas. It would, he thought, be a good idea to let Sam out before he left.

“You wanna go out for a few minutes? C'mon,” he said, heading for the cottage door. Sam bolted in front of him, whining excitedly as he waited for the door to open. Once it was, he charged out into the cool air. Dean watched him from the doorway, just to make sure he didn't get himself into any trouble. Dean called him fifteen minutes later, he came bounding back inside, aiming a playful swipe at Dean's fingers with his tongue.

Dean felt bad about leaving Sam inside again, feeling as though he had only just let him out. He knew that Sam always had a lot of energy, and although their daily morning runs were nice and long, he should have had more time out. “Sorry, bud,” he apologized as he locked the door, promising to let him out again once he got home.

Four hours later, Dean made good on that promise. He turned on the back porch light and let Sam run around in the medium-sized yard behind the house, a fence built around the perimeter to keep the energetic dog from running off into the forest. He picked a stick up off the ground and tossed it at the fence; Sam went zipping after it, bringing it back as his tail wagged triumphantly. Dean pulled the stick form Sam's mouth and threw it again, and again Sam chased after it with just as much energy and excitement as he had the first time. A small game of fetch was always helpful in getting Sam's energy out, without wearing Dean out with it. It also enabled him to let his mind wander, knowing that Sam wouldn't run off when there was something to be fetched. This time, as he absently watched Sam dart around the yard, he thought about Cas.

Their date had gone well; just a nice dinner out, no cheap tricks to get the two of them tumbling into bed together. Dean marveled at that fact. It had been ages since he had actually been looking for something other than a one-night stand, yet he found himself wanting, _needing,_ to know every little detail about Cas. He hadn't felt this way about anyone since Lisa left and honestly, it scared him.

Sam let out a small bark as he nudged at Dean's leg, the stick forgotten. Dean reached down, gently rubbing him in his favorite spot, between his shoulder blades. Sam squirmed happily for a few moments before ducking inside, making sure Dean followed him to the den before jumping up onto the couch so the petting could continue.

Dean all but collapsed onto the couch, sighing contentedly at its fluffiness. Sam wormed his way closer, ending up with his front paws stretched across Dean's lap as Dean rubbed circles on his back. Completely relaxed, he soon fell asleep, not even caring when Dean picked up the remote, flipping the T.V. to a late-night showing of Rocky Horror. 

The music blared in the background and Dean absentmindedly tapped his foot to the beat, thoughts wandering back to Cas as he tried to figure out why he was so interested in the man. Sure, he was cute, but Dean had met tons of cute people before and he never felt the way he did with Cas with any of them. This was something entirely new, entirely different.

The minutes ticked by but Dean got nowhere. He was still as clueless as before as to what was so special about Castiel. Something told him that he'd probably never be able to figure it out; at least not until he saw him again. The very thought of it was enough to give Dean butterflies in his stomach and send his heart pounding. Somehow, he didn't mind.

He didn't realize how tired he was until his eyelids started to droop, feeling heavier by the second. His eyes felt itchy, his limbs heavy, and his head was full of a thick fog that made all of his thoughts slow and stupid. When he pushed Sam off his lap, the dog jumped to attention, fearing that something was wrong. Nothing out of the ordinary was in the room, however, so he hopped off the couch to follow his master to the bed.

Once he was in his room, without even bothering to turn a light on, Dean pulled off his clothes and threw them aside, not caring where they landed. He'd pick them up in the morning, he promised himself, but doubted that he actually would. He slid under the covers and Sam jumped up next to him, plopping down by the crook of his knee and stretching out to take up the majority of the remaining room on the bed. On most nights, Dean would shove him over a bit (no use in letting him get spoiled), but not tonight. Tonight, he just cracked a small smile and laid down. He was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.


	4. Four

Castiel had been stunned when Dean asked him out. He was in no way flirty, although Dean, it seemed, was. Still, he hadn't expected to hit it off with him. Hell, Cas hadn't even been prepared to talk to him until last week! But Sam had come barreling in, Dean close behind, and set the ball rolling. Where he had pulled the confidence to write his number on Dean's hand from, he didn't know, but he was glad he had found it.

He spent much of the following day worrying. He suddenly thought that maybe this date wasn't such a good idea, after all; they had only just met each other, not to mention that Cas had no clue what to say. What if Dean asked about his family, or his work? His life was quite boring. Should he try to embellish it, or just tell it like it was? Or what if he didn't ask about Cas' life? What if he wanted to talk about something else, like sports? Cas didn't know anything about sports. Should he try to read up before dinner, just in case? What about cars? Dean said he was a mechanic. Would he want to talk about cars?

As it turned out, what Dean like to talk about was dogs. More specifically, his dog. Dean talked about Sam much in the same way a parent would talk about their child, voice dripping with pride and affection. 

“When did you get him?” Cas had asked shortly after their food arrived.

Dean smiled and said, “About three years ago, when he was still a pup. I mentioned that my dad was really into all that supernatural stuff, right?” Cas nodded and Dean continued. “Yeah, well, he started getting really paranoid after my mom died. I was only four when that happened, but I still remember how much everything changed after that. We moved around so much that I couldn't even tell you all of the towns we lived in. Sometimes we wouldn't even have unpacked all of our stuff before we moved again. Half the time we didn't even buy a house, just lived out of a crappy motel room for a month or two. Dad would always say that our new house was haunted or that there was a demon in the area or about a million other excuses revolving around the fact that some random monster in the neighborhood was putting us in danger. He wouldn't let me join any sports teams or have any friends over after school. It got to the point that when we got to a new town, I wouldn't even try to make any friends; we were just going to move out in a month or two, anyway, so why bother getting attached?”

Dean paused, looking down at his plate. Cas felt like he should say something, but he wasn't sure what. Dean started talking again before he could get anything out.

“I found Sam on the side of the road just after we moved here. I was still living with Dad at that point. I thought that bringing Sam home might help him calm down a bit. I figured that we could train him, you know, raise him like a guard dog? Dad went crazy, though; started screaming his head off about hell hounds and skinwalkers and how dare I bring something like that into his home! He told me that if I didn't toss Sam back out into the street, then he'd shoot him, and that if I knew what was good for us, I'd let him.” Dean shook his head. “I wasn't about to let either of those things happen, so I packed a bag and left.”

Dean went quiet again, so Cas, completely enthralled, softly asked, “Where did you go?”

Dean looked up for a moment and shrugged, casting his eyes back down on his food. “Just some shabby motel that allowed pets. It was pretty tough, though. I didn't go to college, so that was the first time I was really away from home. My dad opened a small car shop and offered me a job. I guess he was trying to patch things over or something. I was still pissed at him for what happened with Sam, but I couldn't find anywhere else that was hiring that had decent pay, so I took the job. I saved up some money, started looking around for an apartment or something, and found a house at the edge of the woods. It's nothing much, but it's mine. Lived there ever since.” The conversation died down for a moment before Dean asked, “What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Well, I just told you the story of my life, so why don't you tell me yours?”

Cas shrugged one shoulder before replying. “There isn't much to tell. I grew up in a big family, very religious as you know. My parents weren't home often; they were involved in much mission work for our church, so I was raised by my older siblings. We were always told never to question our parents, but one of my brothers, Luci, was angered by our parents' constant absence. He believed that they loved the people they were helping more than they loved their children. Michael tried to convince him otherwise, but he would never listen. He ran away from home when I was six, and no one has seen him since. Gabriel has gone looking for him often, but has never found him. Anna thinks he may have been arrested.”

“Sorry to hear it.”

“I'm not. Luci was... troublesome. His attitude came close to tearing the family apart. Besides, I don't remember much of him. Zach says that it's for the better I don't remember him.” The conversation dies down again and wasn't resumed until Cas mentioned something about Sam being a very bright dog, causing Dean's eyes to light up as he rambled on proudly, Cas loving every second of it.

But that was days ago. Now, Castiel wandered through the park, enjoying the warm sun, cool breeze, and happy laughter of children out for a Saturday morning walk with their parents. The grassy areas of the park were dotted with dog owners, but not the one he wanted to see. In fact, he saw no sign of Dean until a streak of brown fur came charging up the path at him, nearly knocking him over once more as the excited dog jumped up against him, trying to lick his face. Cas smiled, gently shoving Sam back down on all fours. “Hello, Sam,” he said, crouching down to look Sam in the eye, cupping his head in both of his hands and rubbing the fur on his face with his thumbs. Sam stuck out his tongue, aiming affectionate swipes at Cas' face. Cas laughed.

Looking up, Castiel noticed Dean standing a little ways up the path, watching them with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. Cas smiled back, standing up while keeping a hold of Sam's collar with one hand, just to make sure he didn't run off. He was fairly sure Dean would hate him if he let his dog run away.

Dean took his time walking over, smiling like an idiot the whole way. “Hey,” he said once he got withing earshot.

“Hi,” Cas breathed back, weak in the knees all of a sudden. He barely noticed when Sam's collar slipped from his grip as the dog wriggled over to his owner. His eyes never strayed from Dean's, and Dean's never strayed from his.

Sam whines impatiently and Dean smirks. “Care to join us for a walk?”

If Cas' smile was any bigger his face might have had a good chance of splitting in two. “I'd love to.”


End file.
